Joint Custody
by b-mystique
Summary: Post "High Noon". Mike is still getting high and not showing up to work and Jessica has had enough. There is some swearing and mention of drugs. Some Jarvey banter as well.


_**A/N:**__ Umm, this is a relatively unsuccessful attempt at a Mike and Jessica fic. It's post "High Noon" and it does have a bit of Harvey and Jessica in it towards the end. Kinda typed this while all hell was breaking loose around me, so I apologize beforehand if it sucks. Honest reviews are more than welcome. I like the Jessica and Mike interactions on the show. We got to see more in season 2, and I think we'll see more in the next few episodes. They always amuse me. Thursday can't get here fast enough! Super excited Suitor. _

_**Disclaimer:**__ I don't own Suits. I mean, I own a few skirts. I'd love to own it though, more specifically Harvey Specter, Mike Ross, and half of Donna, Jessica, and Rachel's wardrobe. A girl can dream._

The pounding on the door did nothing to dull the throbbing in his frontal lobe. Mike Ross opened his bloodshot eyes, squinting at the Sun piercing through the thin slats in the blinds. He peered at his watch, still on his wrist, and fell back into the couch, with every intention of ignoring this round of knocking until it disappeared.

The pounding continued. He groaned, his body protesting the sudden movement after God knows how long of being stationary. Socked feet hit the floor as he scrambled in a sad attempt to get up. He stumbled off of the couch, banging his knee on the coffee table, before trudging through empty bags of chips and pretzels, an empty pizza box, and half empty containers of Gatorade.

The pouncing was persistent and he knew with certainty that the only one that obnoxious and persistent was Harvey Specter. He'd been dodging him for eight days, so it was only a matter of time before an at home visit was made. He was honestly surprised it took that long. He unfastened the chain lock and wrenched the door open forcefully.

"Look Har-" he stopped mid-sentence as he took in his boss' boss gracing his doorstep. Jessica always the epitome of elegant looked out of place in the doorway in her cream formfitting jacket with the matching skirt. She bore a look he'd become increasingly familiar with in the last few months, she was not amused.

"You look like hell," she said flatly, as she raised her brow until he removed his arm from the doorpost, and she flitted into the room. "You smell like it too."

"Um-uh, Jessic- ," he stammered as he looked down at his flannel pajama pants with the holes in them, and his white tee shirt with countless of undetermined spots smattered across it.

She said nothing as she stepped into the messy apartment, appraising and scrutinizing it with her deep brown eyes. His embarrassment got the better of him as he hurried about the room, moving boxes, and dumping containers in the overflowing garbage can.

"Charming," she said sarcastically, as she stood in the middle of the room, eyeing the bicycle mounted to the wall.

He couldn't hide the blush that rose on his cheeks. "I-uhh, umm," he ran his hand through his unruly hair. "Can I get you something…or?" he opened the refrigerator and peered inside at the mostly emptiness. "Water? Bread? Fried Chicken? Kool-Aid…" he cursed himself before closing the fridge and working up the nerve to face her again. He never could quite figure out what it was about her that made him so nervous that he came across as vaguely racist.

"No, I'm fine and this won't take long," she said coolly. The slight crinkle in the corners of his eyes was the only sign that she found him amusing.

He brought her a glass of water anyways, taking that unfortunate moment to trip over one of the Gatorade bottles, its contents filled with a questionable yellow liquid. The water spilled all over the front of her blouse.

"Oh my God, I-let me just, get you some napkins! I'm so sorry…" he chuckled nervously before dipping into the kitchen for greasy take out napkins and for reasons that he could smack himself for later, he took the initiative to blot her blouse for her, his clumsy hands hovering over her breasts. The awkwardness of the moment wasn't lost on him, as he brought his blue eyes up to meet hers apologetically. "I'm-I"

To her credit, she seemed as amused as she was irritated. Especially when she noticed the residual orange dust streaking her shirt from the bag of Cheetos he had hours before. "Still every bit as clumsy, I see."

"Yeah-I-I'm sorry. Do you want a towel or something, I think your hair is wet too and I know that…umm..."

"Yeah, no, don't finish that," she said hurriedly. "You haven't been at work," she said plainly, getting straight to the point.

"Yeah, my grandmother died…"

"A week and a half ago," she finished for him. "I didn't know your grandmother Mike, but I'm sure she wouldn't have wanted you like…" she paused and flicked a hand around the room for extra emphasis, "_this_."

"With all due respect Jessica, I'm allowed to grieve."

He cringed at the harsh manner in which his words came out, worn blue eyes raised to meets her abashed and wondering if he had went too far. She startled him by seeming genuinely concerned. She reached down to the thoroughly littered coffee table and plucked a small plastic bag with her fingers. She sniffed it, before dangling it between them with a questioning brow. "Is this the coffee cart guy?"

"How did you…" his voice broke off as he let out a surprised chuckle. He was starting to think that he was reading her better, because he swore he seen a humorous glint in her chocolate eyes.

"Sit," she said forcefully. Her tone made him forget that he was in his own home, as he gracelessly fell into the couch, his eyes never left hers as she cleared her throat and perched herself on the corner of a chair covered in dirty laundry.

"He said you were good," she said after the silence between them had drawn out for an uncomfortable length of time. "Harvey. You wondered what Harvey had told me about you. He told me you were good," she said softly the intensity of her gaze making him squirm.

"You want to hear what I told him?" she inquired, brushing a stray piece of hair from out of her eye and not waiting for a response. "I told him that you were a good kid. I told him that you were impressive, and probably the best of us both. Mom and Dad's little prodigy…and no," she said with a chuckle. "You needn't remind me that we don't look alike."

The warm tingle of his blushing rivaled the interest he had in her unexpected candidness.

"I feel like that's true. That you are in fact the best of us both. You have the potential for greatness. Those are Harvey's words, and mine. So yes, I know you're grandmother has passed, but I figured if you truly are the best of Harvey and myself than you'd be more inclined to throw yourself back into your work. Work through the grief, and find something comforting in the things that you can in fact control rather than spending too much time dwelling on the things that you can't."

She waited for him to say something, but he merely appeared whiter and paler than he did five minutes before. His prominent Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, and his bloodshot eyes appeared even glassier.

"Change of tactic then," her steely voice broke through the tense silence, as she leaned forward and gave him her best glare. She took a small amount of pride in how he shuddered and recoiled under her withering look.

"Harvey put his ass on the line for you. I put my ass on the line for you. We've given you an opportunity. An unthinkable opportunity that no one, and I repeat, no one has ever received in the history of fucking law, and you…you want to shit on it, and us! My problem isn't with you taking time off for your grandmother's death, Michael; my problem is that you've spent the past few days blazed out of your goddamn mind when your ass could have been at work. My problem is that you have greatness in you. You have the potential to be something great, and you're pissing it away! My problem is that in that genius little brain of yours you are taking advantage of the fact that we need you. You're loyal, I see it in you and I get that. I respect it. But you also think you have us over a barrel, and I assure you that isn't the case. Now I heard about that stunt with the blunt you and Harvey pulled, and I let it slide, but if you think that you'll get away with whatever the hell you please under my watch then you better screw your head on straight because like hell, like goddamn hell will I let that happen."

She leaned back away from him and smiled sweetly. The shocked expression on his face, blue eyes bulging, that nervous swallowing, the shaky way in which he ran his hands through his hair, appeased her. She had gotten through to him.

"Did he really say I was good?" Mike inquired. There was some part of him that came across as a child hungry and craving for the attention and affection of his father. "Did he really say I was great?"

"You're smart, kid. I would have thought that in all this time you'd have picked up a few things about Harvey Specter. He says what he means, and he doesn't associate himself with anything less than the best. What he thinks about you is evident in the fact that you're the chosen one." She let out a soft snort that made him smirk.

"Why is he so rough around the edges you know? Was he always such a…a..."

"Bastard? Jackass? Arrogant Dick?"

Mike chuckled, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and rubbed his hands together. "I never realized you could be so…funny," he exhaled. "I mean-I…I never realized you were so cool," he said after a bit. "For a while you seemed kind of…"

"Bitchy?"She offered with a smirk and a raised brow.

"No, I was going to say, fierce. Kind of serious but badass," he contested almost frantically, in an attempt to be convincing.

"Who do you think taught Harvey everything he knows?" she responded smarmily. Mike glanced out the window and grinned. "And yeah," she said nonchalantly. "He has always been this way, for as long as I've known him. Although, I must say, in the early days, when he was still working in the copy room, he was a lot like you."

"You're kidding me?" he replied, his mouth agape.

"I am not," she said wistfully.

"What did you see in him?" Mike asked cautiously.

He could see the wistful look in Jessica's eye as though she were living through the past rather than recalling it. She had a small smile tugging at her lips, and she seemed more relaxed in the chair, trading in the graceful, rigid professional way in which she initially sat for a more casual slump. He didn't want the opportunity to go before he had the chance to pry even further. Learn more about his enigmatic and complicated mentor, and the even more enigmatic managing partner of the firm. He was a quick study, in addition to his mesmerizing memory and insane comprehension skills, he also considered himself a damn fine reader of people. Not perfect, by any stretch of the imagination, but pretty damn good. There was something captivating about Harvey and his female counterparts that went beyond the simple fact that Jessica and Donna were the only ones that genuinely liked Harvey. His friendship with Donna was strong and fascinating, he'd had ample time to study them, because they were the closest he had to real friends at the firm. But Jessica was something different. Harvey and Jessica had an inexplicable and intriguing relationship that he couldn't quite put into a neat little box. They were mentor and mentee, they were friends, they were colleagues, they seemed to know each other intimately and at other times seemed as though they were strangers. It danced on that grey line where there weren't exact terms to actually describe it. They fought, they dismissed and disobeyed one another, and countless of other things, but there was this reverence between them, that he couldn't quite explain.

He knew even before she responded, or rather ignored his question, that she was shutting down on him. She had schooled her expression so it was as unreadable as it typically was. She promptly rose from the seat and smoothed out the creases that had formed in her skirt. She brought her piercing brown gaze to his vulnerable blue one.

"You have an hour and a half to get ready," she said coolly. "I think it goes without saying that I highly recommend you clean up this shithole of an apartment," she suspiciously eyed an opened Dorito bag lying on the arm of the couch beside him. "I think there is something moving in that one," she said matter of factly, just as the offensive item rattled on its own.

"Ugh! Oh, eww, God!" Mike jumped up and banged the chip bag until it stopped moving.

"You scream like a girl," Jessica said with a smirk. "I thought you were a ballplayer?" She threw out after a dramatic pause.

"A League of Their Own," he quipped back, running his hands through his hair.

"I expect to see you in front of my desk in an hour and half," she repeated with no humor. "Shower, shave, brush your teeth, and for God's sake use some Visine." She said smoothly while picking up the remnants of weed in the plastic bag and flushing them down the toilet before shredding the plastic bag. "And if you so much as touch that stuff again, screw Harvey Specter, God himself will not be able to protect you from my wrath! Is that clear?!"She hissed between her teeth.

"Crystal," he stammered nervously. "I promise," he said with a conviction, annunciating every syllable. He held her gaze for a few seconds before she nodded her head and headed towards the door.

"You said you wanted me to report to your desk?" he asked, his curious gaze boring into her.

"You're mine for a month. I've gone through all this trouble; I sure as hell would like to see what I'm paying for!" She didn't give him a chance to response as she slipped out the door. "Don't be late!" She ordered over her shoulder before slamming the door behind her.

She stood outside just long enough to hear the shower start from inside, before making her way down the dingy hallway of his apartment building. Every hair stood on end as she rounded the corner. She always wondered what it was about Harvey where she could feel his presence before she ever seen him.

"How goes bringing in the big guns?" Harvey asked with a smirk. He waited until she was closer to him before falling into step beside her.

"Is that what I am now?" she asked with a hint of a smirk. "Only at your convenience of course."

"Oh, but of course," he agreed, ignoring the scowl that graced her features in response. "Is there something I should know about?" He asked, gesturing at her sopping wet blouse with the orange fingerprints. "Kid got handsy?"

"More like clumsy."

"He accidentally touched your breasts? Those aren't even your best asset," he said cheekily, the sparkle of humor in his eyes.

"Five minutes and you've already reached your jackass quota for the day. Congratulations Harvey, that might be a first," she shook her head and shuddered.

"So what's the result?" he asked seriously as he eased out of his suit jacket and casually placed it over her shoulders.

"He'll be reporting to my desk in an hour or so," she said confidently.

"An hour? What happen to those times you dragged me out of my apartment in five minutes tops? You're going soft."

"Am not."

"Are so."

"You're a petulant child do you know that?" she asked exasperately. He gave her the Specter smirk. "Trust me; him having an extra twenty minutes to shower is doing everyone else a service."

"Wait, your desk?" Harvey stopped abruptly, tugging on her arm until she did the same.

"Yes," she leaned in close until she and Harvey were nose to nose. "For the next thirty days, I own that kid."

"But I found him first," Harvey contested teasingly.

"Don't whine, it isn't becoming on you," she shot back with a raised brow.

"I'm Harvey Specter, everything is becoming on me," he quipped with his cocky smirk threatening to make her laugh.

"You're just sore that you have to actually do what I ask you to do rather than dumping your work off on him."

"I did not agree to the terms of this decision," he narrowed his eyes at her, the slight upward turn of his lip being the only indicator that he was halfway teasing. "Although I can think of no greater punishment than being your lapdog for a month."

"See, that's funny because you've been my lapdog for about fifteen years," this time she couldn't hide her grin.

"Touché," he shrugged in concurrence. "You're trying to punish me too aren't you?"

"Why on Earth would I do that?" she asked sardonically, her carefully arched brow raised and arms folded across her chest. "Same offense as him perhaps?"

"Hey, it was only that one time," he contested while chuckling. "With him," he amended as thoughts of 'that other time' crossed his mind, and caused him to shoot her a devilish smirk.

"I'm dying to see what your little protégé is really capable of, may as well be now. It's not just punishment for him," she sighed as she pressed the button for the elevator. " It's goddamn rehab."

"I raise the kid, buy him clothes, feed him, discipline him, and provide him the best education-"

She raised a brow in a silent "Really?" and snorted.

"-Fine, taught him everything I know, and you swoop in to reap the benefits without even putting in the time," he whined.

She knew most of him was teasing, but she could tell a small part of him was miffed that the kid wouldn't be at his beck and call for the next month. No matter how much he tried to hide it, she knew just how fond Harvey was of the kid, and the mere thought of him experiencing the same crippling and compelling attachment to his protégé the same way she had of him, warmed her with a strange sense of pride and thoroughly amused her.

"Your time is my time, sweetheart," she quipped teasingly. She patted him a little too hard on the cheek and smirked as she strode into the elevator, him on the heels of her feet. "He's ours. Joint custody. Not sole custody."

"That explains why you never paid child support," he muttered as reached across and jammed the button to close the door. Her laughter was infection and soon both of them were heartily laughing as the elevator car descended.


End file.
